


The Flu

by WinterfellStark



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 16:55:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterfellStark/pseuds/WinterfellStark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Tyrell has the flu. She doesn't deal well with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Flu

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Universe, the.   
> Prompt: The Flu

“You have the flu. It’s not the end of the world, Margaery.”   
“How do you know? I could be dead tomorrow.”   
Sansa forced herself not to laugh. “Doubt that.”   
“You’re not a doctor. I have very high fever.”  
“It’s normal kind of fever…”   
“Nope.”   
“Ugh, you’re impossible when you’re sick.” Sansa rolled her eyes and started to get up from bed but her girlfriend’s hand on her wrist stopped her from doing so.   
“Don’t leave.”   
“I have to shower and I have to go to work…” Sansa wished she could stay, though.   
“Two minutes?” 

Those eyes, those eyes looking at Sansa like she was her savior… and the Stark knew she had no choice but to stay. She’d rather go to work without showering than saying no to Margaery. 

“Two minutes.” Sansa smiled and started cuddling the other girl, caressing her hair.   
“If I were a cat, I’d be purring right now.” 

Not soon after that, Margaery was asleep in her arms, she looked in peace, unlike her awake self. Sansa got up as quietly as she could and got everything ready for herself and for her sick girlfriend. Soup was in the fridge, tissues on the bedside table, and a post it with a corny line on the cover of the book Margaery was reading. All set.   
She hated to leave while Margaery was still asleep, but she wasn’t going to wake her up and she couldn’t wait a minute longer, so she whispered something hoping that in her sleep she’d hear it and kissed her cheek softy. 

They exchanged a few texts while Sansa was at work and although Margaery insisted that she was extremely sick, Sansa knew that she was in good spirits (or she wouldn’t even be replying to anything) When she was able to come back home afterwards Sansa found that Margaery was still in bed, surrounded by tissues, pillows and blankets, but this time she was reading a book and smiled widely when Sansa came into the room. 

“How’s my sick girl?”   
“If I say “dying” will you roll your eyes?”   
“Yes.”   
“Then I’m… I’m feeling a bit better, I guess?”   
Sansa sat next to her and kissed her forehead. She noticed how warm Margaery still was. “You have a fever.”   
“You knew that when you left earlier.”   
“I was hoping it’d be gone by now.”   
“I know, I prayed to the old gods but they didn’t listen.” Margaery smiled weakly.   
“Shame on them.” Sansa laughed softly. “I’ll get you something to drink.” 

For the second time that day, Margaery’s hand stopped Sansa from moving. “Stay. I could die while you’re away…”   
Margery laughed while Sansa rolled her eyes and kissed her, not caring if she’d catch it as well. “Just… the flu.”


End file.
